Secrets and Lies (Bella's Outtakes)
by BellaScotia
Summary: Set ten years before Secrets and Lies. This is 18 year old Bella's story about how she fell in love with a man she shouldn't have and got her heart broken. If you haven't read the first fifteen to twenty chapters of Secrets and Lies, you should probably read that first. Or not... the choice is yours. AH M
1. Chapter 1

**If you haven't read the first fifteen chapters of Secrets and Lies, I would urge you to do so before reading this. It contains some slight spoilers and might not have the same impact if read as a stand alone story. **

**This is the story of what happened between Bella and Edward prior to Secrets and Lies from Bella's point of view. It's two chapters long and recounts the events of her affair with Edward and it's consequences.**

* * *

"It's almost nine... do you want to go down to watch TV?"

Alice's voice snaps me out of my trance. I blink a couple of times when I look up at her. For the last half hour or so, I've been sprawled across her bed propped on my elbows, pretending to read Seventeen. I'm pretty sure she's been talking about Brandon all night, and I really was trying to listen, but I lost the battle as soon as I heard Edward arriving home.

"What?" I ask, sure that she asked a question and feeling guilty that it didn't register.

Her brows dip into a deep frown. "Have you heard a word I've said all night? I said it's nearly nine."

I glance down at the magazine that has been lying open but unread in front of me for the last hour or so. "Sorry," I apologise lamely. "I guess I got distracted. Do you want me to leave?"

Her eyes dip to the magazine briefly, as if she is wondering what's so interesting about it. I flip the cover closed – she knows I'm not into fashion magazines. "Are you looking for ideas for Prom?" she asks, her eyes lighting up.

"Um... yeah." I feel like kicking myself for the unconvincing shrug that involuntarily accompanies my response.

"Who are you going to go with?" she asks, draping herself across the bed beside me. "Mike's really the only guy in school you talk to."

"Mike's taking Jessica," I point out. "Not that I'd go with him anyway."

"You'll have to go with someone." She reaches out, swivelling the magazine in her direction. "Maybe Tyler will ask you."

I roll my eyes.

I watch her leafing through the pages admiring the dresses and wish she didn't look so eager. I have no intention of going to prom; I just haven't come up with a good enough excuse yet. Her comment about Tyler goes ignored.

"I'm hoping Brandon will ask me," she says with a happy smile.

"Of course he will." I laugh lightly. "You guys are dating and he's clearly crazy about you, why wouldn't he ask you?"

"You really think he's crazy about me?" she asks, rolling onto her back, a smile crawling across her lips.

"Sure."

She seems to drift off into her own thoughts for a moment, but quickly snaps out of it. "Your program starts in a few minutes, if you want to go down and watch it. I'm sure I heard Edward come home."

Lately it's been getting harder to sit in the same room as Edward in front of his family.

I swallow hard, shaking my head. "No, I'm fine here," I mumble. My eyes snap up when I hear her disappointed sigh. "What?"

"I was kinda planning to call Brandon while you watch your show," she explains, lighting up again when she says his name. "But it's cool if you're staying here to hang out."

I briefly wonder what it must be like to not have to hide your feelings when you say the name of the person you love.

Rolling off the bed, I force a smile. "Come down when you're done," I say.

She lunges for the phone before I even make it to the door.

I walk slowly along the hallway, willing my heartbeat to slow down as I head towards the living room. Towards Edward.

A tinkle of laughter emanates from Alice's room and a pang of envy knifes through me. As much as I love to see her so happy, I can't help but be envious of the freedom she has to enjoy it.

When she turns all misty-eyed and starts to tell me how she feels when she's with Brandon, I find myself wishing that I could share my own happiness with her. But I can't. I can't tell her that I've found someone I love so much it scares me sometimes. I can't tell her that when I'm with him it's the only time I enjoy being in the moment, because the rest of the time I'm either missing him or counting down the minutes until I see him again. I can't tell her that I'm completely and utterly head over heels in love... with her married brother.

I'm jealous that Alice doesn't have to hide anything about her love. There is no guilt to temper her joy. She is simply free to enjoy it, and I wish more than anything that Edward and I were too.

I pause at the top of the stairs, caught between my guilt and my anticipation.

Soon it will be easier than this. One day I won't feel so guilty for loving him.

As I start my descent, a frisson of excitement bristles up my spine at the thought of seeing him.

By the time I reach the foot of the stairs I catch Edward's smooth voice as it drifts out from the kitchen. I can already detect the slight undercurrent of tension in it, which makes me wonder if he can hear my approach.

I feel the familiar prickle of awareness as I get closer and force myself to take a few deep breaths. Putting on my game face I step into the kitchen, and because I know it will falter if I look at him, I direct my attention towards Esme instead. I manage a smile.

"Bella," Esme greets, warmly.

I manage to hold the smile, while I fight to stop my eyes from flying straight to Edward.

"Do you girls want some drinks?" she asks, opening the fridge door to peer inside.

As soon as her back is turned, I lose the fight and look in Edward's direction. He looks a little tense. A flicker of a smile plays on his lips but doesn't touch any other part of his face... not even his eyes. There's a tiny jerk of his head – like an invitation – before he turns and walks towards the living room.

"Um... no... I.. uh... I came down to watch TV for a while," I say, stumbling over my words.

"Is Alice coming down?" she asks.

I accept the can of soda she holds out to me and shake my head.

"No, she's talking to Brandon on the phone... I thought I'd give her some privacy."

"We've still to meet this Brandon."

She says his name like it's a dirty word.

The sounds from the TV drift in from the other room, and I feel awkward about going into the family room because Edward is in there alone. "He's really nice," I say, stalling. Esme's brow furrows a little. "Brandon." I elaborate.

Her expression softens and she smiles. "I guess I'm used to already knowing the boys she dates, Forks is a small town after all."

Brandon and his family moved to Forks a few months ago, but I have no doubt Esme will get to know the family pretty well in no time.

"Don't let me keep you from your TV show," she says, motioning towards the family room. "If you need anything just holler, I'll be in here cleaning."

I walk into the family room and instantly regret it. Edward is on his phone.

"Yeah... one O'clock... got it... and you'll definitely be there this time?" His eyes meet mine but only briefly, he motions his head towards a chair as if telling me to take a seat. I fiddle with the ring pull on my soda can, trying not to listen to him talk. The tension evident on his face and the way his eyes dart guiltily to mine alert me that he's talking to Irina. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow... yeah... bye."

He sits on the chair nearest to mine, but doesn't say anything. He has my full attention anyway. His jaw is set hard and his shoulders are tight with tension. I watch his eyes dart between the TV and the window and back again several times. It's clear he's neither watching the TV nor admiring the view outside the window. He's deep in thought and miles away.

His long lashes flicker with the movement of his eyes, and I can't drag my gaze away from his handsome profile. He needs a haircut and I notice a few strands of hair have fallen over his ear. I long to lean forward and smooth those strands back into place, but I can't touch him. I shouldn't touch him.

"You okay?" I ask. The question is stupid. I can clearly see he's not. Irina is returning from her sister's tomorrow, and he's going to ask her for a divorce. How can he possibly be okay?

I'm not surprised he doesn't answer. He lets out a long harsh breath as if he's been holding it, then turns to look at me. His eyes soften a little, his lips pressing together into a resigned line. "Where's Alice?" he asks, after staring at me for a few moments.

"On the phone."

He runs his fingers through his hair and the strands are smooth again. "Wanna get out of here?"

I nod.

"Go tell Alice I'm taking you home," he says.

"What if she wants to come?"

"Didn't I overhear you saying she's talking to her latest boyfriend?"

When I nod, he raises his eyebrows and I take his point: There's no way Alice will cut her call short with Brandon just to accompany Edward while he drives me home.

I pass through the kitchen telling Esme that I'm going to get Alice because Edward is taking me home. Esme is like Charlie in that she doesn't like Alice driving alone at night. I guess it would be different if they didn't practically live in the middle of the forest. It's become so routine now for Edward to drive that nobody bats an eyelid on the odd occasion he takes me home alone.

It's another little layer of our deception.

My dash upstairs to say goodbye to Alice turns out to be an exercise in futility since she barely registers my departure. She's curled up on the easy chair in the corner of her room murmuring seductively down the phone. Right now I don't feel jealous at all. The promise of time alone with Edward has me vibrating with excitement, and I close the door quietly and rush back downstairs.

Edward is already in the car with the engine running when I step outside. I have to force myself to walk calmly down the steps, when really I feel like running to him.

I feel the tension emanating from him as soon as I sit down and close the door. My excitement quells a little, making me fumble with the seatbelt as I try to click it into place. A jolt of awareness courses through me as Edward's warm hand envelopes mine and slots it home.

Normally I would expect him to say something, but tonight he doesn't.

The headlights illuminate the dark, twisting road ahead of us, the trees casting ominous shadows in the glow. After a couple of minutes, I gently touch Edward's arm.

"You okay?" I ask again. I just want him to talk to me.

My question is met with silence, I'm debating whether to ask again when he turns sharply onto a side road that is almost concealed by overhanging branches. It's little more than a single track, but I've come to know it well in the last couple of months.

The car bumps over the uneven terrain and he pulls into a small clearing surrounded by trees. Like always, he kills the headlights as soon as he shuts off the engine. I stare at his profile illuminated by the dull green glow of the dashboard.

"Edward?"

He turns to face me and exhales loudly. His eyes are intense and even in the dim light I can see the glint of need in them.

"I love you."

I feel it just as much as I hear it and launch myself at him. His arms close like a vice around me and despite the cramped space I manage to wrap my whole body around his, absorbing as much of him as I can.

His breath is hot against my neck as he burrows deeper, melding his chest to mine and gripping my hips in his hands. I can feel his heartbeat as surely as I can feel the desperation that surrounds us.

"Everything will be alright," he whispers, and I know he's referring to tomorrow. But I just want to think about this moment right here.

He cradles my face in his hands and gazes at me intently.

Everything feels more desperate tonight but I can't allow myself to dwell on the reason for it, but we're so close to doing the right thing I can't let the wrong of it encroach on my need for him.

Our lips clash. Fingers grip. Chests heave. Hearts burn.

He wrestles the denim down my legs while I free him. He fills me. I encompass him. Sparks fly. Stars flash behind my eyelids.

But as always – it has to be tempered. It has to be cut short.

My muscles pulse around him while he ebbs inside me, and as I surf the remnants of my orgasm I catch the guilt in his eyes.

I recoil. I've never seen it so keenly as I do now.

Tears spring to my eyes. "Don't!" I gasp. "Don't regret it."

He clutches at my skin, pulling me to him. He holds me tightly, kissing both of my eyelids while murmuring that he loves me. "I don't regret _you_," he promises.

I cling to him until time starts to press on us and we reluctantly fix our clothes.

"I hate this," he admits. "I hate that I've reduced it to this."

I stare at him, confused.

He lifts his hand and gently pushes my hair away from my face. Cupping my cheek reverently, he pulls my face closer. I slide back onto his lap.

"I love you. Don't ever doubt that, but I hate that I've debased what we have. I should've made it right first. What we have shouldn't be like this." His eyes flick around the interior of the car, before settling on me again. "It's so much better than this. You deserve better than this."

I press my face into his neck, fighting back my tears.

"I love you too," I whisper, feeling the tension in the air. "I love being with you, and soon we won't have to hide it anymore."

He pulls me closer and though it's not exactly comfortable, I rest my head on his chest and enjoy the feeling of his hand gently rubbing my back. His other hand keeps a firm grip on mine. I listen to the steady beat of his heart and breathe in the musky tang of his fresh sweat. I revel in the feel of being this close to him, because after tomorrow it could be a little while before I can be with him again.

"I feel like I'm taking the first step last," he says, breaking the silence.

Pain rips through me. He's right. As much as I love him, as much as I love being with him, we're going from back to front. "We can't take it back."

"No," he agrees. "And the thing I feel most guilty about is that I don't regret it."

I know what he means. Even though the guilt is strong, I still know that my love for him overrides everything.

I try not to think about what he has to do tomorrow, because when I do, I see Irina's face. Even though she treats him badly and doesn't seem to love him, I can't help but feel bad that I know that her husband is leaving her before she does.

And it's partly my fault. Or maybe mostly. I don't know.

The drive back to Forks is all too brief and when he pulls up outside my house I launch myself into his arms and kiss him thoroughly. His arms clamp around me for a second but then he pushes me back a little. "Careful," he admonishes.

He looks at the house.

"Charlie's working nights," I say.

He shakes his head a little. "This is fucked up." He rifles his fingers through his hair, sighing sharply. "I might not be able to call you tomorrow." He grasps my hand. "I'll call you as soon as I can."

I nod and tell him I love him.

"I love you too," he says quietly as I open the car door.

I pause and look at him over my shoulder. "I'm sorry that you have to go through this tomorrow."

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he says, sliding his hand across the seat towards my leg. He doesn't touch me. "This is my fault. I should've done it months ago and we wouldn't be in this position."

I hate that I have to go. I hate that he has to hurt someone else to be with me. I hate that I can't be there for him until it's over. And I'm already hating myself for my part in it as I walk across the yard to my empty house.

I lock the door behind me and head straight to my room without putting any lights on. When I flick my bedroom lamp on it casts a glow over the college applications I haven't finished filling out. I've sent some away already, but I was careful not to send ones to the colleges Alice has applied to. Even now, I find it hard to imagine what it will be like to be away from Forks and free to be with Edward. But I can't wait.

If only we didn't have a ton of shit to get through first.

I shut the light off again and get into bed.

I don't shower before bed on the nights we've made love. I like to go to sleep with the smell of him on my skin. As weird as it might be, I hate washing him off me in the morning.

The empty beer can that Charlie has left on the kitchen table is the only indicator that he came home last night. I didn't hear him come home and I didn't hear him leave this morning. It's not unusual for us not to see each other for days at a time.

Normally I hate the empty house, but today I'm glad of it. It means I don't need to hide away my anxiety until I get to school, and if Charlie's not here later I won't have to hide it then either.

I look down at my half empty bowl of Fruit Loops – the ones I've eaten are lying in my stomach like pieces of lead. I toss the remainder and rinse the bowl. Like every other day, Edward has been on my mind since I opened my eyes – but today is different: The thought of him has my stomach tied in knots. Today I'm worrying about him.

As I pull into the school parking lot, I spot the usual gang huddled around Tyler's van. I haven't hung out with any of them for a while since I usually spend most of my time with Alice. Mike is the only one I spend any time with, and even that consists mostly of quick exchanges in the school halls or chance meetings around town.

It surprises me a little when they all turn in unison at the sound of my truck. Of late, my presence has largely gone unnoticed by them. I've enjoyed their lack of attention much more than I enjoy being watched so intently as I park the truck.

I step out of the truck and glance over at them. Jessica is smirking for some reason, but it falls from her face as soon as Mike starts to walk towards me. His expression is grim as he shrugs off Jessica's hand when she latches onto his arm.

"Brandon's taking me to prom!"

Alice's excited tone startles me, making me jump a little. I'd been so fixated on Mike I didn't even see her. I turn to find her sporting a massive grin and looking far too perky for first thing on a cold, wet Friday morning. Especially this Friday morning. I don't know if I can cope with her happiness today.

"That's great," I tell her as enthusiastically as I can.

She links her arm in mine and when we turn towards the school, I see that Mike is engaged in an argument with Jessica, but the others are still staring at me.

I can practically feel their eyes on me as Alice and I make our way to the main building. "We need to go dress shopping soon." Alice says excitedly. "I don't want to leave it till the last minute."

"Sure," I mutter, failing to muster up a smile.

We separate at Alice's locker, and I tell her I'll see her at lunch. Since I got moved into mostly advanced classes for my final year, I hardly share any classes with her any more – and none on Fridays. I feel guilty for the little swell of relief that gives me. Alice can be very perceptive to my moods and I know she'd pick up on my tension if she spent any longer than a lunch hour with me.

Math is my first class, and I can barely concentrate on the textbook in front of me. My stomach is twisting with nerves as I think of Edward heading to the airport. I want to hear his voice and know that he's alright but I can't risk calling him. My head is already pounding with the tension and I know this will be a long day spent worrying about what's going on.

I'm relieved when the class is over, but it's short-lived when I get to my next class.

From the moment I take my seat I'm aware of Jessica and Lauren's faces turning towards me every few minutes. I have no idea what their problem is, but I can't seem to care about high school bullshit today. The sooner these last couple of months of school are over the better, and then I can get on with my life. For the first time today a little bit of hope lightens my anxiety as I think of how much better the future will be after today. No more hiding.

The bell comes as sweet relief and I scoop up my books, clutching them to my chest as I head out of class.

"Hey Bella."

Ignoring Lauren's greeting, I keep walking. I've heard that saccharine tone she uses enough times to know that it means trouble.

"You okay?" she asks, as she and Jessica fall into step beside me.

"I'm fine," I say dismissively.

I try walking a little faster, but annoyingly they increase their pace to keep up with me.

"She looks a little pale, doesn't she Jess?"

"You do Bella," Jessica chimes in theatrically. "You look like you might be coming down with something."

"Or going down," Lauren barks in that annoying sounds-like-a-cough way that smart asses use.

I try to keep my expression neutral despite their irritating sniggering

"Maybe you should see a doctor," Lauren says, but her remark barely registers because I've spotted the folded sheet of paper that is taped to my locker. The word doctor hangs in the air and hairs on my neck start to prickle.

I rip the paper from my locker, clenching it in my fist. I'm sure this is their work, and the last thing I'm going to do is read it in front of them.

Lauren flicks her sleek blonde hair over her shoulder and tucks it behind her ear. My eyes follow her fingers, taking in the long acrylic nails with the jewels in them. As ever, her face is plastered with make-up and her clothes are nothing but the best money can buy. Jessica has to try a little bit harder than Lauren, but she's almost a carbon copy.

As the narrow corridor fills with students that jostle past us, I find myself wondering how I ever imagined myself to be friends with these two.

"What's on the sheet, Bella?" Jessica asks with a malevolent glint in her eye.

Tired of their immaturity, I figure it'll probably be better just to get this over with.

I unfold it, but before I get a chance to read it something hard hits my leg and rolls across the floor.

An apple.

"You better watch out for those apples, Bella!"

I turn to see Tyler smirking at me from down the hall. Jessica and Lauren burst into gales of laughter.

Perplexed, and missing the joke completely, I look down at the piece of paper in my hand.

_ An apple a day keeps the doctor away._

Alarm bells go off in my head and my mouth dries.

"That's not cool, man!" Mike yells at Tyler as he stoops to pick up the apple.

With the prospect of a scene, people start to slow down as they pass. I feel like a thousand eyes are on me as I struggle to hold onto my composure. I somehow summon up a glare and aim it at Jessica and Lauren, all the while one question is screaming in my head. _How can they possibly know?_

"This doesn't even make any sense," I snort, crumpling the sheet of paper and thrusting it into Jessica's chest. My acting skills can only take me so far, and I fold my arms in front of my chest to hide my shaking hands.

"If you think about it, it's pretty funny," Jessica says, smiling maliciously. "Since you're having an affair with Dr. Cullen, I'm guessing you won't want any apples keeping him away from you."

I don't know when she saw us, but the triumphant sneer on her face makes it all too clear that she has.

"Cut it out, Jessica," Mike orders.

I turn, grateful to have one ally, but I can't look him in the eye.

"Why are you defending her?" Jessica snaps. "You always stand up for _her_. _I'm_ your girlfriend, Mike."

Suddenly, Jessica's motivation for doing this becomes clear. I ran into Mike the other night and we went to the diner to hang out. Jessica was furious when she found us there.

"You can't just go around spreading rumours," Mike says.

Mike's faith in me amplifies the guilt I've been feeling for so long. There are only a few people whose opinion of me matters, and Mike is one of them.

"You believe her over me?" Jessica asks, angrily.

Mike glares at her but doesn't answer.

"I saw her with him last night. They were making out in his car... right outside her house." Mike looks unconvinced, and her tone becomes more desperate in her determination to convince him. "Remember what she told us about the first time she met him? About the pap–"

"You fucking bitch!"

Mike steps between us as I lunge for her. The corridor is full of people watching avidly as Jessica continues to shout over Mike's shoulder while I yell at her to shut up.

"You were there, Mike, when she told us she had a crush on him," she rants. "I know you like her, but _she's_ the bitch. She set out to get him... she told me. Why do you think she dropped us for that freak Alice?"

_Oh God_, _Alice._

Before I have a chance to think about the stupidity of my actions, I wrestle free from Mike's grip and take off at a run, praying that I'll make it to Alice's next class before the bell_. _

Today is not my lucky day though, and the bell rings before I'm even half way there. The sound of the last door closing echoes in the now empty corridor. I'm left standing in the silence with the realisation that running away might've lent weight to Jessica's claims.

I hear footsteps from around the corner and duck into the stairwell out of sight – but there are also footsteps descending the stairs, so I'm forced to squeeze into the cramped space beneath them.

Pressing my back against the cold wall, I draw my knees up to my chin as the panic sets in. My palms begin to sweat and my jaw aches from the force of my clenched teeth. My forehead drops to my knees as my mind launches into a spin cycle. Amid the panic Jessica's words play over in my mind. If only I hadn't kissed Edward in the car last night.

My groan echoes up through the empty stairwell when I recall the memory of telling Mike and Jessica about my first meeting with Edward. It was not long after it happened. Even though Alice and I were friends by then, I still hung out with the gang in Port Angeles occasionally – very occasionally. That night Mark had been rolling joints all night and we were all drunk and high. I can't even remember how the subject of Edward came up, but I remember laughing hysterically about the irony of Alice's brother giving me a pap smear. Of course there was nothing funny about it, but getting high has a tendency to do that to you.

Jessica and Lauren had laughed at how grossed out Mike looked, and Mark had started asking horrible suggestive questions. The hilarity hadn't lasted long, and I'd dismissed it all by telling them that he wasn't my doctor anymore and he'd been mortified about the whole thing when he found out I was Alice's friend.

I cringed the next day when I sobered up and couldn't believe I'd told them about it. Jessica reminded me later that I'd also admitted that I thought Edward was hot. I'm still stunned by how far she took her lies.

I press my eyes against my knees to hold the tears back, but my throat is so tight every breath I take burns my throat. _Why today?_

I lose the battle to stay composed as the enormity of what's happening starts to bear down on me. Even if I get to Alice first, everyone else still knows. Just when it was going to be right, we've been exposed.

A wave of nausea ripples through me and I start to retch. I only just make it to the bathrooms in time to throw up streams of sour bile that scorch my throat. Hot tears bite behind my eyes. Deciding I can't face Alice here in front of everyone, I rush blindly through the corridors and somehow make it to my truck.

But Alice is already there, looking as stricken as I feel. She's pacing by my truck, one hand pushed into her hair and the other drumming against her hip. Her head snaps up when she hears my approach. Her eyes pop wide when she looks at my tear stained face.

"Oh God!" she gasps. "It's true?"

"Let me explain." I rush forward.

She backs away as quickly as I try to reach her.

Her eyes narrow as her mouth twists in disgust. "You used me just so you could chase after my brother."

"Alice... it's not... don't believe Jessica, she's full of it."

She keeps backing away. "I can't believe I never noticed... I mean, it took him a long time to take you home last night." Her voice is low and heavy with anger. "It's not the first time he's had a sudden errand to run after dropping you home." She shakes her head in disbelief.

"Alice, please," I beg. "Let's go somewhere we can talk."

"I thought you were my friend." She looks miserable now. "But it was all about him."

"No!"

She's not even looking at me now, and her face is a picture of bewilderment and confusion. She seems surprised when she backs into her car. I grab her arm as she turns to unlock the door.

With surprising strength she turns and violently pushes me away. "Stay away from me!" she yells, her voice cracking with emotion. "You used me."

"Alice, this is not about you... I mean... that's not why we're friends. I–"

She slams the car door in my face. I slap my hand against the window, begging her not to drive away, but I have to jump back when she almost runs over my feet as she backs out of the space.

I watch helplessly as her car peels out of the lot disappears out of sight. I can't follow her home. This is definitely not a discussion we can have there.

Deciding that I need to warn Edward, I run back to my truck.

Befitting my mood, the heavens open and rain pounds the windscreen as the wipers struggle to keep up. I almost ram into the back of the cruiser when I swing into the driveway.

"Shit!"

_What the hell is Charlie doing home?_

There seems little point in backing out again. With the noise this truck makes he'll have heard me as soon as I turned onto the street. I don't run despite the rain battering me as I make my way across the yard. Getting soaked is way down on the list of shit things that are happening to me today.

"Bells?" he calls as soon as I step inside.

I make it to the second step before I hear his foot hit the creaky floorboard that lies across the living room doorway.

"Why aren't you at school?"

I'm glad my face is wet from the rain and not just my tears when I turn around. "Why are you not at work?" I counter. "Don't you live there anymore?"

He frowns. "They owed me some time," he says, ignoring my sarcasm. "And since I'm going fishing with Harry early tomorrow, I thought I'd get some stuff done today. Now, why are _you_ home so early?"

Charlie's favourite thing to do is refer me to my mother when anything 'girl-related' comes up, so I say the one thing I know will get him off my back. "I got my period so I had to come home and take a shower."

Crimson creeps up his neck and fans out across his cheeks. I'd be amused if my insides weren't churning like butter.

"Okay," he says, almost wincing. "Um... do you want me to make you some coffee or something?"

I hate when he tries to be nice to me. It makes me feel like a bitch. I shake my head and he doesn't stop me when I bolt upstairs.

The phone is hidden in my underwear drawer. Charlie would rather coat his hand in raw, bloody meat and stick it in a lion's mouth than put it anywhere near my underwear drawer.

My heart is leaping in my chest, thundering so violently against my ribs I can feel it in my teeth as I hit the button to call Edward. Worrying my lip with my teeth, I pace the room as it rings out. Eventually it goes to voicemail.

"Fuck!"

After four attempts I throw the phone on the bed. Charlie calls up that he's heading out to the store and asks if I need anything. On another day I might have made him squirm and ask for tampons – but not today.

As soon as the cruiser is off down the street, I rush impulsively to the phone downstairs. I have no idea who will answer and no idea what I'll say if it's not Alice or Edward, but desperation has robbed me of rational thought.

It's Alice.

"Don't hang up!" I blurt. "Please."

"You've got some nerve calling here," she blasts. "What if Irina answered?"

"Are they home?" I gasp. _Oh shit_. "Did you tell Edward about what happened?"

"You're unbelievable," she yells. "It's true what Jessica said isn't it? You don't care about the fact he's married, you just want to cause trouble."

"No. That's not true, I–"

"I bet you hated having to sit in the room with me, when you were really only here for him."

"No, listen to me. It was..._ is_ separate from you. It's about me and Edward, not about me and you."

"Not about me? You're my best friend, I've been bringing you into my house and you've been sleeping with my brother." Her gasp of disbelief is audible, and I recognise it for what it is: a realisation. "All those walks he's been taking, all the disappearing acts... it's so he can sneak off and have sex with you, isn't it? God! I can't believe you'd do that... he's _married_."

"It's not cheap A–" My voice dies in my throat when I hear a faint voice down the line, like someone is speaking to Alice in the background. I wince when rattling sounds thunder in my ear before the line is muffled, presumably by Alice's hand.

"Alice?"

The line disconnects.

My heart stops.

I rush back upstairs to the cell phone.

It turned out to be the slowest, most fraught day of my life. The night was worse. I spent most of it with my face pressed into the pillow trying to muffle my sobs so Charlie wouldn't hear me. I clutched my cell phone to my chest and looked at the screen every minute, praying for even a text from him.

Nothing came.

The morning light brings me no comfort. I listen to Charlie preparing to leave for his fishing trip. As soon as he leaves I stumble to the bathroom and switch on the light. I wince as it spears into my sensitive eyes. I can't stand the sight of myself in the mirror, so I flick the light off again, and splash cold water on my face to soothe my puffy eyes.

When I get back to bed I start to wonder again. I wonder if Edward's night was as awful as mine; I wonder what he said to Irina when he told her; I wonder what he's doing right now. Most of all I wonder why he hasn't tried to contact me at all. I know it's irrational since he warned me it could be a day or so, but it still stings.

I lie on top of my bed and try to focus on everything he said. He told me it wouldn't be easy, that it would take time. The memory of his tender words and promises calms me a little. I need to stay strong and have faith that he'll contact me as soon as he can.

The only person I spoke to on Saturday was Mrs. Stanley. I'd been sitting in the kitchen alone all day, alternating my attention between my cell on the table and the phone on the wall. Willing one of them to ring. When the shrill ring pierced the silence hope flared in my chest, only to be extinguished when Mrs. Stanley's cold voice greeted me.

"Is your father home?" She asked, her voice dripping with disdain.

"He's out." I responded, my tone matching hers perfectly, though my voice sounded a little hoarse.

"Jessica told me–"

"We're not interested in Jessica's lies here."

I hung up on her. The last thing I wanted was her tying up the line if Edward was trying to get through. But as soon as I turned around and saw the empty kitchen, I couldn't stand being in the house anymore. I ran to the meadow and sat in the rain for the rest of the day – still staring at the cell phone.

Last night stretched longer than Friday night, but I feel more hopeful that I'll hear from Edward today. He's had two days to explain things to Irina, surely he'll find some time today to contact me.

I look at the time on my cell. That's what it's been reduced to now. Its sole function this weekend has been to tell me that the hours I thought had passed have been mere minutes. All the attempts I've made to call Edward have gone unanswered. I don't know if he's heard my voicemails or read my texts either, but all the cell does is taunt me with the time when I check for a response. I briefly wonder if there is something wrong with his cell. He bought both of them at the same time – one for each of us – and only I have the number for his and vice versa.

While I'm debating on the dependability of cell phones, the landline rings downstairs. Charlie's footsteps thump across the hallway as he moves to answer it. My heartbeat kicks up a notch as I listen in hope that he'll call my name. He doesn't. I listen to his muffled voice and know it's Mrs. Stanley again when I hear it escalate into angry tones.

Shit.

His footsteps are heavy as he climbs the stairs. I brace myself when he knocks. His movements are too slow, the knock too quiet. When he opens the door I can see the restrained anger in his expression.

"Please tell me that Stanley girl is lying," he says without looking at me.

"She is."

His fingers curl into a fist against the doorframe. His moustache twitches, but still he won't look at me. "Why's she saying it if there's no truth in it?"

I shrug, feigning nonchalance. I decided the best way to handle this is to deny everything until I discuss things with Edward. The last thing I want to do is cause even more trouble for him, so despite my deep desire to admit that I love him, I force out the lies. Of course, when it comes out that Edward has left his wife some of it might rear its head again, but we'll be leaving town when it's time for me to go to college anyway.

"She's just being a bitch."

His eyes finally meet mine. "You spend a lot of time at the Cullen's."

"Yeah, because Alice is my best friend."

"What's _she_ saying about all of this?"

My mouth dries a little. "She knows it's not true. Jessica's just jealous of me being friends with Mike, so she's causing trouble."

Charlie sighs, looking unconvinced. "This is a serious allegation, Bella. Maybe I should go talk to the Cullens." His eyes are filled with suspicion.

"Yeah, because that won't make things worse," I manage to say sarcastically.

He holds my gaze, and I meet it unwaveringly.

"Everybody knows Jessica loves nothing better than to gossip. They'll move onto something else in a few days if we ignore it."

I hold my breath while he mulls it over.

"I'll never understand you girls," he grumbles. I look away when he stares at me long and hard as if he's trying to figure out whether to believe me or not. "Violet Stanley seems to think it's true."

"I don't give a shit about Violet Stanley," I snap. "She's a worse gossip than Jessica."

"Language."

I roll my eyes.

"Was Alice in the car when Edward dropped you off the other night?"

"No," I admit.

His eyes flash angrily. "I don't want you going up there anymore. If you want to see Alice, she can come here."

"Like you're ever here to know what I'm doing," I mutter.

He steps into the room. "I mean it, Bella. Don't make this worse than it already is. Stay away."

I turn my back on him, and he eventually leaves the room. I pick up my phone and look at the blank screen: no texts and no missed calls.

I arrive at school deliberately late on Monday. I feel like crap since I haven't slept all weekend, and the silence from Edward is really starting to worry me. Surely by now he could've slipped out to make one call.

The day is excruciating to say the least. I try to hold my head up as I walk through the crowded corridors but the intense scrutiny and the sniggers are hard to ignore. I saw Alice in the morning, but she turned around and walked the other way when I tried to talk to her. I tried to fake it in the lunch room, but the fact that I didn't sit with Alice fuelled the gossip more, so I left and sat alone under the stairs.

At the end of the day I approach my locker and spot yet another sheet of paper stuck to it. I don't bother to read it, preferring to crumple it up and throw it on the floor like the trash it is.

"Hey."

The tone of Mike's voice is the first kindness I've heard all day. "Hey," I respond without turning.

He leans on the locker next to mine and tilts his face down till it's in my line of vision.

"You sure you want to be seen talking to the school whore?" I ask.

"I don't think that," he says sadly.

I can't look at him because I'm sure I'll cry if I do. "You know your girlfriend should think about becoming a novelist. She's very good at making up stories."

I've caught snippets all day of the things Jessica has been saying. The whole thing has turned into an epic saga. She's been telling people all sorts of lies, even having the gall to claim that I've been sharing the details of my 'sordid affair' with her all along. She's clearly enjoying the attention and if I didn't know it would make things worse, I'd have slapped her lying face by now.

"Is it true?" Mike asks quietly.

I slam my locker closed and walk away from him. He doesn't follow.

In the parking lot I wait by Alice's car.

"I don't want to talk," she says, looking at the ground. She looks torn as she avoids making eye contact with me.

"Please. Can't we just go somewhere and talk about this?"

She shakes her head sadly. "No... I can't."

I can see her quiet resolve and know that she won't back down. I war with myself for a few moments.

"Alice, I need to know..." I clench my eyes tight and draw in a deep breath. As much as I hate doing this I have to ask. "Did Edward tell Irina?"

Her eyes snap up, and she shakes her head, her face a picture of pure disdain. "What Edward discusses with his _wife_ is none of your business," she snaps coldly.

Defeated, I step aside and let her get into her car.

I don't drive straight home. I drive around town for awhile hoping in vain that I might see Edward. I drive by the medical centre but his car isn't there. Hope flares in my chest that he'll be at the meadow waiting for me. I don't even bother going into the house. I leave my bag in the truck and run along the trail with mounting excitement.

It dies when I step into the clearing.

He's not here.

I regret not going into the house to get my phone as I wait with my eyes trained on the trees, praying that he'll appear. My heart aches for him. I just want him to wrap his arms around me and tell me everything will be alright.

I miss the comfort of his embrace and the way his fingers drift through my hair while he murmurs soft endearments. I'd give anything to see him walking across the meadow towards me. The void he's left in me grows by the day.

Up until now I've been certain that he'll contact me, but the doubt that is starting to creep up on me is hard to ignore. Sometimes being here helps me to push those doubts away. Leaning my head back against the tree, I close my eyes and remember the words he said. His promises were so heartfelt that remembering them calms me.

He loves me. I know he does.

When darkness sweeps across the sky in deep purple clouds, I rise stiffly to my feet and reluctantly head home.

"Where were you?" Charlie demands when I make it back to the house.

"Out," I snap, stomping past him.

"Who were you with?" he yells as I take the stairs two at a time.

"No one," I yell back before slamming my bedroom door.

Loud bangs drift up from the kitchen, but all I care about is checking my cell again. I pull it out of my drawer and feel like screaming with frustration at the empty display.

After a week spent trying to be as inconspicuous as possible at school and hanging around the meadow waiting for Edward, things get much worse.

I arrive home on Friday, and even though I'm surprised to see the cruiser in the driveway, I don't think too much about it until I see Charlie sitting at the kitchen table looking angrier than I've ever seen him.

"Sit down," he orders, pushing a chair out with his foot.

"What's up?"

His jaw flexes. "You tell me."

"Is this about Jessica Stanley again?" I ask, rising.

He slams his fist down on the table so hard the glass of water in front of him jumps. My heart almost stops with fright.

"This is about you and Edward fucking Cullen!" he yells. "I got a phone call today from the medical board. They've received a complaint that Edward is having a..." His eyes briefly squeeze shut. "... sexual relationship with one of his patients." He's clearly repeating what was said to him word for word.

"I'm not his patient," I protest.

I realise my mistake when his face pales to a ghostly pallor.

"I mean–"

He stands up. "I want the truth, Bella." He glares down at me. "There's going to be some sort of investigation, you'll be interviewed, so you better start talking now. Did he touch you?"

"No," I lie, feeling sick to my stomach.

He leans both hands on the table and looms over me. "I don't believe you. You think I can't hear you crying at night? You think I don't see that you look like shit? I thought it was some stupid high school bullshit and it would blow over. But it's more than that, isn't it?"

I shake my head as the tears start to fall. He grabs his keys from the table. "Maybe I'll get a straight answer from him."

"No!" I yell, chasing after him. "Don't."

He whirls in the hallway and grabs my arms, holding me in place while he glares at me. "Tell me what happened, and don't lie to me. You might not think I know you, but I do... I can see you're hurting."

"I kissed him," I blurt, desperate to divert him from the truth. "Jessica saw me and now she's making up lies."

"You kissed him?" His hands tighten around my arms.

I nod. "I fell... I had a crush on him... for awhile... and that night... It was stupid. I was stupid. I didn't know Jessica was there... I never–"

He lets go of one arm, and I stop babbling when he leads me back into the kitchen and sits me down.

Some of his anger has been replaced by disappointment, and I can't meet his eyes when he starts to speak. "Did he kiss you back?" I shake my head. "Did he ever encourage you?"

"No. He pushed me away; he was angry with me." I stare down at my hands as the lies drip easily from my tongue. "Alice is angry with me too. I don't know why I did it."

He sighs harshly, dropping into the other chair. "Nothing's ever easy with you," he says, traces of his anger still evident in his tone. "Why do you have to cause trouble all the time? He's married for Christ's sake. You can't just go around throwing yourself at married men."

He rants at me for a while, alternating between anger and disappointment. I hate how relieved I am that he believes me, because really I shouldn't be relieved at all. These lies will just make it worse when I _can_ be with Edward. I can't tell him the truth right now, because the first thing he'll do is go after Edward and that will only draw more attention to Jessica's claims.

I'm given a reprieve when he gets called into work, but he makes it clear I'm not to leave the house and says he'll call every half hour to make sure I'm home. As soon as he's gone I race for the phone, knowing I'm taking a chance but I have to find out what's going on with Edward. Now that the medical board has been in touch, I know for certain his whole family knows... including Irina.

My heart is pounding so hard in my ears I can barely concentrate on the ringing while I wait for someone to answer.

"Hello?"

I was hoping for Edward and panic flares when it's Esme's voice that drifts down the line. I almost hang up, but my desperation to speak to Edward overrides my fear.

"I need to speak to Edward," I blurt.

I hear her quick intake of breath. "Bella, that's not a good idea."

"Esme please, I hav–"

"Edward's not here," she says, her voice quieter than it was before. "And even if he was he wouldn't take your call. I think you and your friend have caused enough trouble. Please don't call here again."

She hangs up, and I burst into tears. It's all spiralling out of control – I can't understand why Edward hasn't called or tried to see me. Suddenly, the dreams I've been coveting for months are turning into a nightmare.

Apart from one confrontation where I cornered Jessica in the bathrooms and tried to convince her to tell the truth, things begin to settle down a little at school. Everyone is starting to think about the upcoming finals, which means I'm no longer the number one topic of discussion.

I don't think about finals though, because every day after school I drive around town for a little while hoping to run into Edward, and then I sit beneath the tree in the meadow for as long as I can to wait for him.

I've tried a couple of times not to go to the meadow, but the fear I'll miss him is too much to bear. Day after day I sit in the same spot with my eyes trained on the gap in the trees. Sometimes, I hear the snap of a twig or a rustle in the trees and my heart pounds with excitement, but it must be animals because he never appears like I expect him to.

I've passed the time by clinging to the memories of our time spent together here, reliving every sweet moment, hearing again every endearment he panted into my ear while he moved inside me. I can't even think about never hearing him whisper to me like that again.

But day by day my hope fades.

Somehow it's easier to dwell on those memories than it is to relive our conversations about the future. I should be preparing for my finals and sending off college applications. Deep down I know that I'm risking failing by coming here instead of studying, but seeing him means more to me than anything right now.

I can barely eat; I'm not sleeping properly, and every waking moment is fraught with missing him. It's getting harder to fight the growing trepidation that is brewing within me.

Days turn into weeks without word from Edward. I even skip the odd day at school to wait in the meadow, but he doesn't come. At night I dream of him and wake up sobbing into my pillow, but I can't let go. I can't bring myself to believe that he lied to me, that every promise was empty.

On the days I do go to school, I'm even more miserable. Angela Weber and Mike are the only two people who are nice to me. I still get the occasional insult taped to my locker and see people staring at me across the classroom while they snigger. I thought people would get bored and move on, but there's no sign of that yet. Every day hurts worse than the one before.

I'm mostly numb as I walk around the school in a daze or sit in class not hearing a word the teacher is saying. The only time I'm fully aware of my surroundings is in Biology, because Alice sits two desks to my left in that class. She rarely looks at me, but on the few occasions she has, her eyes are dark and expressive – sometimes with anger, but sometimes with torment and a hint of sadness.

I've given up trying to speak to her. Instead I sit and bristle, unbearably aware of the eyes constantly watching Alice and me in hope of an altercation that will give them something new to talk about.

It still takes a lot of effort not to look at Alice, but I manage it.

The teacher is late today, and I doodle on my notebook while we wait. Chatter goes on around me, but all I can concentrate on are the little houses I'm drawing on the blank page. Someone once showed me how to draw a square with a triangle on top and a cross in the middle without lifting the pen from the page. They look like houses to me and I draw one after the other while I try to tune out the people around me.

"Hey Bella."

Before I can catch myself my head snaps up at the sound of Lauren's voice. Her over-glossed lips are spread into the type of grin that has me bracing myself for a barbed comment.

"Fuck off, Lauren," I spit, tired and bitter and completely unable to keep my contempt for her at bay.

Her smile doesn't falter, in fact, if anything it gets wider. "I hear your boyfriend's wife is pregnant."

Her words slam into my chest like a physical entity. In the moment before they fully register, it's as if all the air has been sucked out of the room – and then they hit home and I feel like they have literally lacerated my heart. Pins and needles prickle all over my body, my breath stalls in my throat and my heart thumps a staccato rhythm against my ribs. The room swims and blurs as the blood drains from my face.

For the first time today I look at Alice.

And see the truth in her eyes.

Lauren is babbling about how she heard the news from someone who works with her at the medical centre, but her words are barely registering. All I can focus on is the pity on Alice's face... and it shocks me just as much as Lauren's revelation.

My throat constricts against the bile that flies into it. Snatching up my things, I bolt from the classroom and don't stop running until I reach the bathroom. My stomach heaves violently, and I retch painfully over the toilet bowl. Terrified that someone will come looking for me, I race to my truck as soon as I regain control of my stomach.

Recklessly, I drive home with tears streaming down my face. Again, I run to the meadow and wait.

I wait because I'm sure that he wouldn't do this to me. He wouldn't leave me without a word. He wouldn't get his wife pregnant and leave me to find out like this. My sobs are loud in the loneliness of the meadow.

The pain is so strong it cripples me. I curl up on the ground, the mossy smell of the damp earth filling my nostrils. My stomach roils as Lauren's words scream inside my head. They mix with Edward's promises until nothing makes sense anymore.

It's Edward's voice that prevails. I hear his soft voice telling me he loves me, assuring me that we'll be alright. I clutch at my chest, feeling powerless against the grief that's overwhelming me.

"Please come," I chant over and over. "Don't leave me."

My body trembles violently when it starts to sink in.

Irina is pregnant.

He's been lying all along.

He never intended to leave her to be with me.

I curl up tighter on the damp grass, pulling my knees up to my chest. The thought of him touching Irina and being with her the way he was with me rips away the last of my hope. Sobs scream from my throat, my heart shattering under the crushing weight of his betrayal.

**To be continued...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Secrets and Lies – Bella's Outtake part 2 by BellaScotia**

**Disclaimer: All character's belong to Stephenie Meyer. No infringement intended.**

**Thank you to Courtney for being my beta again. Thank you to Mel for asking me to write Bella's Outtake.**

* * *

I have no idea what time it is when I finally stumble home through the dark forest, violent shivers convulsing my body.

"Jesus, Bella. What's happened?"

Charlie almost knocks his chair over when I step in through the back door. It's only when he grabs me that I notice I'm soaked to the bone. I didn't know it was raining. Charlie looks frantic as he sits me down and kneels in front of me.

"You're scaring me, Bella."

"He lied," I croak, my voice rough from crying.

Confusion creases his brow as he searches my face for any indication of what I mean. "He said he loved me."

I watch the blood drain from his face, replaced by sheer anger. "Edward?"

I nod.

His eyes harden into livid, dark orbs.

He leaps to his feet and storms out of the door, cursing a blue streak. His car is screeching down the street by the time I make it to the porch. Fatigue almost brings me to my knees. My limbs feel boneless as I curl up on the chair in the living room, shivering violently but feeling no inclination to change out of my wet clothes.

Charlie returns some time later looking murderous.

"What happened?" My voice rasps painfully, and I cough a little to clear my throat.

"Go put some dry clothes on," he snarls.

He clicks his tongue in annoyance when I recoil from him. His expression calms slightly.

"Go get changed," he says more gently. "Then come right back down here and tell me the truth... all of it!"

"Not till you tell me what happened," I insist defiantly, energised by my desire to hear something – anything – about Edward. "What did you do?" Desperation creeps into my voice. "Did you see him? What did he say?"

"Bella," he warns through tight lips.

"What did you do?" I repeat.

"He wasn't there," he admits coldly. "He's gone."

"For good?"

The anger in his eyes intensifies. "If he knows what's good for him. Now go upstairs and get changed."

For once I do exactly as I'm told. I worry about what this means while I take a quick shower and change into my pajamas and a robe. Something in Charlie's tone alerted me to the fact that he knows that Edward wasn't just out for the evening, but I can't believe that he's left town. There has to be some other explanation.

Within a half hour I'm back in the kitchen. Fresh tears spring to my eyes when I see the bowl of soup he's set out for me.

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry."

"Eat it," he orders. "You look like you haven't eaten properly in weeks." His fist clenches while he speaks, and I notice his knee bouncing a little though he's trying to appear calm.

I force down all of the soup under his watchful gaze.

"How long?" he asks when I'm finished.

"Just a couple of months," I reply, unable to look at him. "I swear." I add when he snorts cynically.

There's a long silence.

"Did..." He groans in frustration. "I wish your mother was here."

I glance up at him to find that he can't look at me either.

"Did you have sex with him?" he asks. His gaze is focussed on the far wall. I watch his bottom lip disappear between his teeth as the top one curls back in disgust.

On top of everything else I'm feeling, I still manage to feel embarrassment when I nod my head. I can't say it out loud.

He must have caught it in his peripheral vision, because his eyes close and his lips purse so tightly the edges turn white. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"The night Jessica saw us," I respond truthfully.

His knee bounces harder, and he runs his finger along the inside of his collar as if he can't breathe.

The mention of being with Edward breaks my heart all over again. "I love him," I sob, covering my face with my hands.

The scrape of his chair startles me almost as much as his arms wrapping around me. He holds me too tightly while I cry into his chest, and I wince at the intermittent curses that fly from his mouth. Finally, he releases me and hands me a wad of kitchen paper.

I blot my eyes, but it's futile since the tears won't stop. Charlie goes back to his own seat and drums his fingers on the table while looking out of the window. He doesn't know how to handle this anymore than I do. He mutters under his breath about cowards and bastards and runs his fingers repeatedly over his moustache.

"Is it still going on?" he asks, turning to me eventually.

"No," I insist, shocked by the question.

"Don't look like that," he says, irritated. "You're out of this house all the time. I don't know where you go. You come home in a mess and spend half the night crying. What am I supposed to think?"

"Did you see him today? Is that why you're in this state?" His voice is harsh again.

"I haven't seen him for weeks."

"But you're out there looking for him?"

"I'm not," I deny.

He glares at me. "I can't believe anything you say now, Bella. Tell me what happened today."

I clear my throat while I try to work it out in my head. I can't bear to say it out loud, as if it will make it true if I do.

"I'm calling your mother tonight. You're going back to live with her," he snaps, losing patience with me.

"What?" I gasp. "Why?

"Because I can't trust you not to go running around after him. Look at you! Look at the state you're in, over a man who got what he wanted and threw you away like trash."

He rubs his hand down his face and takes a few deep breaths.

"He used you," Charlie says soberly.

"It wasn't like that," I insist, shaking my head.

"Where is he then?" he challenges. "You're here breaking your heart over him and where is he? He's not here, Bella. He's with his _wife_. You need to get that into your head. He doesn't want you...he used you and now he's probably selling his wife a load of bullshit too, to save his marriage."

"Don't say that," I beg, sobs racking my body. "It was real."

"Goddammit!" he snaps.

He paces the room angrily while my sobs fill the room.

Finally he kneels in front of me and touches my knee gently. "I really think you should go back to live with your mom." His voice is gentle and laced with sadness.

"What about my finals?" I hedge. "And I'll be leaving to go to college."

His head droops forward briefly, but then he squares his shoulders. "We'll talk about it tomorrow." His eyes scan my face. "You look exhausted, you best get off to bed." He frowns. "You've got that interview tomorrow."

My heart plummets. I'd forgotten about the interview with the representative from the medical board.

Charlie squeezes my hand. "Don't worry, I'm coming with you."

I climb into bed, my body exhausted but my mind still reeling.

My mind buzzes violently like a swarm of angry bees. It feels like days rather than hours have passed since Lauren's revelation. My imagination keeps conjuring up images of Edward and Irina together. I imagine them smiling at each other as they share their good news with his family. The visual of Edward wrapping his arms around Irina sickens me. Anger starts to boil inside me as more and more images come unbidden to my mind.

How could he do this? How can he just turn his back on me and have everything he promised me with the woman he claimed he didn't love? Bitter humiliation claws at my insides, fuelling my grown rage.

Every 'I love you' he ever said to me swirls in my mind. Taunting me, angering me. I picture him in bed with Irina, curled up beside her, rubbing her pregnant belly, and I want to vomit.

The weight of my grief over losing everything I wanted is so great it constricts my chest, like I'm being crushed from the inside out. The pain is tangible, aching in my chest with such ferocity I can hardly breathe through it.

Even as sleep beckons, my jaw is clenched tight in anger.

I tell the investigator everything. I deny Jessica's claims of when the affair started, opting to tell him the truth of it. Still reeling from yesterday's hurricane of emotion, I divulge every true detail of what Edward and I did.

But there is no satisfaction in it. Guilt creeps up on me as soon as I finish speaking. Even though my heart is broken and every part of me hurts, I still feel guilt that this might ruin Edward's career.

The investigators words seem to fly in the air around me yet none of them stick. I hear talk of trials and hearings, but I'm not really taking it in. By the time I leave the office, I have no clue what will happen. Am I supposed to go to a trial?

On the way home Charlie tells me there will be a closed hearing. It's not a civil case, just an action by the medical board and so I won't need to talk to them again. This information provides small comfort. The damage has been done.

Charlie lets me stay home from school for a couple of days after he makes sure I have no exams. However, he stays home too, so I have no chance to go to the meadow. The first day is the hardest. I sit in the kitchen wishing I could go, panicking against reason that Edward is there waiting for me. Even after everything that has happened – or not happened – I still yearn for him. I can't make my heart stop aching for him.

But of course he won't be there; he'll be with his wife. My gut clenches every time I think of her. Aside from the pain, there is also a little alarm bell ringing inside me that I'm not ready to acknowledge. I'm stressed, that's all.

I sit at the kitchen table with a book in my hands, but my eyes keep wandering to the back door. The hum of the TV in the living room is driving me crazy. Not because of the noise, but because it's a reminder that Charlie is home. He's been home every day – watching me like a hawk.

He's here when I wake up, he's here when I get home from school – I have to come straight home now – and he's here when I go to bed. It annoyed me when he first told me he was taking a few days off work. He spent time talking to me about finals and college. It's the most he's talked to me in months, but I wanted to scream at him to shut up about the future.

I don't want it, not without Edward.

Now he just sits in front of the TV or stares at me across the kitchen table with disappointed eyes.

The hardest part has been trying to act normal. I pretend to read; I play music in my room that falls on deaf ears, and I even force the food down that I've cooked for us. But inside I'm dying. Inside all I want to do is go to the meadow. I dream that he's there, that I push my way through the trees to find him waiting for me. His smile is wide and welcoming... and then it fades into the mirage it is and misery engulfs me again.

The first day Charlie stayed home was the hardest. I hovered in the kitchen all day under the pretence of cleaning it, but I was really waiting for an opportunity to slip out the back door. It took all my strength not to defy Charlie and just go that day.

I got through it, thinking it would get easier in time.

It doesn't.

The loud rattle of the phone startles me, and I rush to answer it.

"Bella?"

Mike's voice makes my heart plummet.

"Hi Mike," I respond, aware that Charlie has turned the sound down on the TV.

"I... um... I tried to catch you at school today, but I missed you," he says, sounding hesitant.

"Yeah, I left early, I had a study period," I say.

"Look, I need to talk to you. Could you maybe meet me at the diner tomorrow?" His words come out in a rush, like he's nervous.

Charlie stalks into the kitchen and raises an enquiring brow at the phone.

I cover it with my palm. "It's Mike," I say, then thinking quickly I add, "he wants to meet tomorrow... I have some notes for him for Bio... we're lab partners."

Charlie frowns. "Can't he just come over here?"

"You can't keep me prisoner forever," I huff. "I'm eighteen years old."

His eyebrow lifts sardonically and then he looks at the receiver dubiously.

Sighing loudly, I remove my hand and talk to Mike. "Mike, could you do me a favour and say hi to my dad?"

Charlie's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the same time Mike's voice sputters down the line. I thrust the receiver into Charlie's chest, and he catches it before reluctantly lifting it to his ear.

"Hey Mike," he says, glaring at me. "You staying out of trouble these days, son?"

He nods at whatever Mike says and then hands me back the phone and leaves the room.

"What was that?" Mike asks, as soon as I greet him again.

"Just Dad being Dad," I say lightly. "What time do you want to meet?"

After I make the arrangements with Mike, Charlie skulks back into the kitchen.

I gather up my books from the table, ready to take them upstairs. I stop in the doorway and face him. "You have to let me out of your sight sometime. And you're going to have to leave the house sometime, too. Don't you have some criminals to catch... or fish?"

He blows out a sharp breath.

When I turn towards him, armed and ready to fire, the look on his face pulls me up short. I've never seen my dad look so haggard, so old. It hits me, just for a moment, that I've hurt him more than embarrassed him.

Something in his expression draws forth a long forgotten memory. It's vague but I know it's from just before Renee took me away from him. He was in this very room, looking as hurt and lost as he looks right now. I swallow hard as he starts to speak.

"You scared me, Bells. When I saw the state you were in a few days ago... well, I never want to see you like that again. I couldn't cope with it again."

Emotion swells in my chest at the sincerity of his tone. Inside I'm still shattered , but my outward show seems to be convincing him. I force a weak smile.

"I'm just going to share some notes with Mike... I promise."

He nods reluctantly.

I retreat to the sanctity of my room and spend the rest of the day trying to cry quietly. Sometimes I feel like my head will explode from the pressure of all the thoughts that swirl around it simultaneously. There's one that keeps coming around and I'm finding it increasingly hard to ignore.

My Yasmin pills are lying in my nightstand drawer. I pull out the packet and stare at the intermittent pills that shouldn't be there. I've missed more than I thought. Since my skin cleared up, I haven't been so regular in taking them and a heavy realisation drops in my stomach.

I creep out of my room and into the bathroom. It's not like looking at the tampon box will give me any answers, but I stare at it anyway trying to remember the last time I fished it out of the cupboard under the sink.

My memory fails me.

I know I won't get any sleep tonight.

"Bella?"

Charlie's voice wakes me. I blink a few times, adjusting to the dim light.

"I'm going into work," he says when I finally focus on his face. "If you need anything just give me a call."

"I'll be okay," I say.

"Make sure you come straight home after you've given Mike the notes," he says, eyeballing me.

I roll onto my back after he leaves and stare at the ceiling. His anger and disappointment have been commonplace over the past couple of years, but I'm not used to his concern. I don't know if I can cope with it when I'm this close to disappointing him further.

I wish Edward was here.

My nerves kick in again, and I start to feel nauseous. I can't keep ignoring this. Maybe it's the stress. If I do a test it will put my mind at ease and then my period will probably come. Women miss periods all the time when they're stressed. I've read about it... somewhere.

A quick glance at my alarm clock tells me I have enough time to make it to Port Angeles and back before I meet Mike, as long as I leave in the next half hour. It would be monumentally stupid to buy a pregnancy test in Forks. There's no sense in pouring gasoline on the inferno.

An hour later I'm marching up and down the aisles of a pharmacy in Port Angeles. I've lost count of the times I've passed the shelves full of pregnancy tests. Who knew there would be so many different kinds? I slow down as I pass, but I haven't plucked up the courage to stop and actually look at them. How are you supposed to know which one is best anyway?

I know I'm being ridiculous. It's not like there's anyone I know nearby, but I just can't seem to find the nerve to pick one up and read the box. After another three or four circuits of the shop, I take a deep breath and force myself to stop and actually touch one.

I bite my lip while I read the box, but I can't seem to absorb the words. In the end I just grab one and bury it under the pack of cotton balls I picked up for purposes of concealment. My face is beet red while the stern woman behind the till rings up my purchases. She even has the gall to ask me if I want a bag, like I'd want to walk out of here carrying _that _in my hand for all the world to see.

On the way back to the truck I pass two pregnant women. I've never really noticed one before.

All the way back to Forks, I'm unable to take my mind off the pharmacy bag stuffed under the passenger seat. I have this sinking feeling in my gut, an annoyance that won't leave me alone. I turn up the radio and try to focus on that instead, but my eyes keep sliding to that sliver of blue poking out from under the seat.

I arrive back in Forks with twenty minutes to spare before meeting Mike. I can't help myself, even though I know it's futile, I still drive around for a bit in the hope of spotting Edward's Volvo.

When my lesson in futility is over, I turn into the diner's parking lot and take the space beside Mike's car.

Since it's Saturday afternoon the diner is busy. I swing the door open and am greeted by a cacophony of chatter, and I feel my nose wrinkle at the stench of grease. The sound of a child wailing rings in my ears making me wince, not just for auditory reasons. I spot Mike right away, since he's standing up waving at me like I've just arrived home from battle.

This makes me smile, but it fades as I walk towards him and he doesn't reciprocate.

"Hey Mike."

I slide onto the leather seat opposite him. He fiddles with the ketchup bottle and mumbles a greeting. I stare at him in confusion.

"What's up?" I ask.

His eyes flick up to mine but only briefly – like he can't stand to look me in the eye.

A knot tightens in my gut. I have the distinct feeling I wasn't invited here for pleasantries.

"I...uh... thanks for coming," he mutters, turning to look out of the window.

I study his profile, taking in the grim expression on his face, the hunched set of his shoulders and the nervous tapping of his fingers on the table. He's nervous. If we were going out, I'd swear he was about to break up with me.

"Do you want something to drink? A soda or something?" His voice is too high-pitched.

"Yeah, I'll have a coffee. Just milk. No sugar."

He nods and practically bolts out of the booth to go get it. I swallow down the lump that is forming in my throat. I'm not blind. I've seen the heat he's been getting from Jessica for remaining friends with me. I know what this is: I'm about to lose one of the two friends I have left.

"Here you go," he says, his voice artificially bright.

Wrapping my arms around the cup, I stare into it and remember the good things Mike has done for me. He's a good person, and I shouldn't hold this against him... no matter how much it hurts. That thought, coupled with the fact that I want to get home and take that test, dilutes my bitter disappointment.

"Jessica doesn't want you to talk to me anymore," I state bitterly.

He shifts in his seat. "It's not–"

"You guys are pretty serious then?" I ask, cutting him off.

He squirms a little more when I look up at him. His gaze darts around the room before settling back on me. "I... she... shit, Bella, I wouldn't do this if I didn't have to. I mean, I'll still see you around school but she gets jealous you know? She thinks I'm taking your side if I spend time with you."

I nod, even though inside I want to scream at him for buying her bullshit.

Inside I feel so let down, but the rational part of me stops me from lashing out at him. Instead, I sit and listen while he tries to explain that he'll lose his girl if he stays friends with me. Personally, I don't think she's much of a loss – he deserves better – but what do I know? What do I know about a guy who would do anything to be with the person he loves?

"It'll only be for a little while," he tries to assure me when we step outside. "I'll make her see that we're just friends."

I'm already staring vacantly at the rain that's hammering down.

"You don't have a jacket," he observes.

I shrug. "It's not like getting wet is the worst thing that could happen to me today."

As soon as I say it I feel bad. He looks wounded when I meet his gaze, and I apologise instantly.

I step out from under the stoop into the driving rain. The drops hit my skin like ice cold needles, and it's good to _feel_. Mike looks at me like I'm crazy, and maybe I am because I start to laugh.

"Come on in," I yell gleefully. "The water's lovely."

He grabs my arm before we run towards our cars. He laughs at me when I tilt my face up towards the heavens, but my laugh is slightly bitter and slightly unhinged... even to my own ears. But the laughter doesn't last long as my emotions boil over. He looks down at me and his brow furrows.

I look away, embarrassed.

"Hey," he says softly, making me look up at him.

The emotion of the last few weeks starts to brim to the surface, as well as the thought of losing my last friend. Tears swim in my eyes.

"C'mere you," Mike says, hauling me into his arms.

I wrap my arms around him, desperate to be held. I bury my face into his chest, choking back the sobs that threaten to engulf me. As if in understanding he squeezes me tighter.

I don't know how long I take comfort in his embrace, but it starts to feel too long. I pull back, and he hesitates for a moment before he lets me go.

"Bella, I ca–"

I shake my head at him. "We're okay, Mike."

"Are you sure?"

I thump his arm with my fist. "Yeah," I say lightly. "I understand." Even though I really don't.

His face is a portrait of guilt and regret as he turns away to his car. With a heavy heart I climb into the truck, and wiping furiously at my tears, I drive away without looking at him again.

I rush straight upstairs and lock the bathroom door. With shaky hands I turn the box over and attempt to read the instructions. It takes several attempts to absorb the information because my nerves are so shot. It's not even like it's rocket science, all I have to do is pee on the stick – but even that part is tricky with shaking hands.

I put the lid back on the stick and lay it on the window ledge. As if it's a bomb, I move away as far as I can and end up sitting in the corner next to the bath with my legs pulled up to my body. I press my forehead to my knees and wait. The box said five minutes.

I start to feel sick after fifteen minutes. I stand up and move closer, only to lose my nerve and sit on the edge of the bath.

After half an hour my stomach is making weird bubbling noises, and I can feel the burn all the way up to my throat. I slide back to the floor and wait a little longer.

My whole body is trembling while my mind whirs through everything that has happened. Images of Edward float around in my head like little darts of pain that arrow straight to my heart. I can see him smiling at me while he promises that everything will be okay, I can see his guilty eyes as he looks at me just before I exit his car. I can see his passion-filled gaze as he makes love to me.

Every beat of my heart smarts.

I wrench my mind away from painful memories, only to be confronted with a painful present.

I want to look at the stick. I want to put myself out of this misery, but I'm terrified that when I look at that stick everything will get a whole lot worse.

After about an hour, I can't take it anymore. My stomach is churning, and my limbs are stiff from sitting in the same position for too long. My bones crack as I get to my feet. For a moment I'm hit with the urge to pick the stick up and throw it out the window.

Finally, I lift it and hold it in my trembling hands. It takes great effort to open my eyes and look down.

Weirdly, the small blue plus sign comes as no surprise at all.

The tears blur it away.

My heart drops to the floor.

My head hurts.

I spend the rest of the weekend sitting at my bedroom window staring out into space, trying to wrap my head around the fact that there is a life growing inside me – but it doesn't feel real. I can't bring myself to believe that fate would be so cruel.

As the hours drag by, my mind twists in every possible direction. I tentatively touch my still-flat stomach, but I can't even comprehend it swelling with the child inside me. I know I could never have an abortion and so I'm left with only the realisation that my chance to walk away from all this heartache has just disintegrated.

There will be no fresh start at college. There will be no chance to live my life as if Edward Cullen had never been part of it. I never thought it could hurt any worse, but it seems it can. When my thoughts turn to Edward and Irina enjoying her pregnancy together, the agony of loneliness that hits me is almost too much to bear. I clutch at my chest because it feels like it might split wide open and my battered heart will fall to the floor in ruin.

As it finally sinks in that I'm pregnant, I start to think of how loved _their_ child will be. I can envision both families gathering in that showy way they are fond of when the child is born. I torture myself with images of a grand christening party with Edward and Irina proudly showing off their bundle of joy to the Denalis and the Cullens. My lip curls at the thought of Carlisle finally congratulating Edward on getting something right.

Where would my child fit into it all? In all of the imagined joyous birthday parties and Christmases and everyday occurrences that I'm now convinced will come to pass, there is no place for the embarrassing product of Edward's indiscretion.

Most nights, I lie alone in bed unable to sleep because missing Edward hurts so much. During those hours I toy with the idea of telling him – in the mire of my loneliness it almost seems plausible that he'd come back to me if I tell him. I almost convince myself that I can give him what Irina is giving him. But in the cold light of day, I can see it for the flimsy notion it is.

I torture myself like this all week. I have to force myself to go to school, and I can barely stand it when Angela approaches me one morning at my locker. She's been trying to talk me into joining her in the cafeteria for a week or so, and I'm running out of excuses.

She comes up behind me, and the pity in her voice aggravates me when she asks how I'm doing.

"I'm fine," I insist, but it sounds unconvincing even to my ears.

"You don't look so good," she observes, "you look a bit tired."

"Aren't we all?" I quip, trying to inject humour into my tone. "At least we only have a couple of weeks left of school."

"That's true," she says, smiling. She pushes her glasses higher on her nose and bites her lip. I know the question is coming before she asks it. "Will you meet me in the cafeteria at lunch time? You don't have to hide away all the time."

"I'm not hiding," I say defensively. "I just don't want to sit in there with Jessica and her minions staring at me."

"I hate Jessica for this," Angela thunders. I'm a little shocked because I've never seen her so vehement. "I hate how she's still spreading her lies."

I turn to face her, hoping I look unaffected by her outburst. "Don't worry about it, Angela. It's not your problem."

Her face falls. My guilt makes me throw her a bone.

"Maybe I will meet you for lunch," I offer. "It would be nice to talk."

Her smile is gratifying, and I start to think that maybe it would be nice to have someone to talk to at lunchtime. I turn back to my locker after she leaves, still not sure if I'll meet her or not.

"Bella?"

I freeze at the sound of Alice's voice. I can't bring myself to turn around. Despite everything, I've missed her and even the sound of her saying my name angers me as much as it hurts me.

"Look, I know I'm the last person you'll want to talk to, but I can't do this anymore. I miss you."

I feel the muscles in my shoulders tense up and squeeze my eyes closed as emotion wells up within me. Despite my lack of response she continues to talk.

"I'm sorry I couldn't speak to you... It was hard for me. With everything that was going on, with the medical board and with Edward and Ir... well, it's been hard, you know?"

_I fucking know alright._

"Edward and Irina have left town now and I thought... maybe we could talk?"

The first thought that hits me is he's gone for good. He's really moved on without me. I've suspected this since Charlie couldn't find him, but the regret in Alice's voice confirms it.

The finality of it almost brings me to my knees. Bizarrely, an image of him the last time I saw him comes to mind. That awful glint of guilt and sadness in his eyes. He must've known even then that it was over, yet he let me believe in him for so long. That's what hurts the most.

Alice is still speaking behind me, but it's Edward's voice that is roaring in my head like a storm. All his lies crashing like thunder, all his promises like bright flashes of lightning that disappear into nothing. Anger starts to cut through my pain while Alice begs me for the one thing I've wanted from her for weeks.

The last little vestige of friendship drains away with my anger. We can never be friends again. She can never know that I'm having his baby, because if she does, I'll never be free of them, and I'll never get over Edward's rejection.

Somehow I manage to calmly close my locker door and walk away from her without a word.

I spend the entire English lesson churning it all over in my mind. For the first time the baby starts to feel real. I feel a tiny bubble of emotion, akin to hope when I think what it will be like to have someone to love and who will love me without condition. My eyes prickle with the beginnings of tears. I lower my head and let my hair drift forward like a curtain shielding me from the rest of the class.

Thoughts of Edward and his family showering my baby with gifts in lieu of real love turn my heart to stone. I don't want them buying my baby's affection by providing things I can't afford.

By the end of the lesson I've made some decisions. I don't want Edward or his family to know about my baby, and I'll be leaving town to make sure they never find out.

I firmly believe Alice is the type of person who won't let it end like this. If I move away, she'll look me up, and I can't risk that. I have to make her hate me – and I need him to hate me, too. It's the only way she'll leave me be.

For once fate is kind to me, and the opportunity to set the wheels in motion comes to me at lunchtime. I wander amid the throngs of people making their way to the cafeteria when I see Angela and Jessica arguing up ahead.

Jessica has her arms folded and her hip cocked in a defiant stance. As I get closer and people file into the cafeteria away from them, Angela's voice drifts towards me.

"Why can't you just drop the bullshit? Bella's never done anything to you, she doesn't deserve this!"

"It's not bullshit," Jessica yells.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" Angela shakes her head in disgust.

Steeling myself, I seize my chance. "She's not lying," I say. If I wasn't so nauseated by the thought of what I'm about to do, I'd find the way their heads swivel towards me in sync funny. But there is nothing funny about this situation.

Their shocked expressions are identical.

"What?" Angela is first to find her voice.

"She's not lying," I repeat. "So it's pointless defending me."

Angela's jaw drops just around the same time Jessica's does. I walk straight past them and out the doors.

Tears fill my eyes, and I run into Mike before I make it to my truck.

"Woah!" he chuckles catching hold of me. "Where's the fire."

His smile evaporates when he sees my tears. "Are you okay?" he asks.

"I just need to go home, I'm–"

"Mike!" Jessica yells from behind me.

I take the chance to get away and hurry to my truck without looking back. Thankfully, neither of them follow me, but I feel bad for Mike when I catch sight of them arguing in my rearview mirror.

Not long after I get home, I hear a car pull up outside. I'm surprised that word has got to Alice so fast.

For someone so small she sure makes a lot of noise when she pounds on the door.

"I'm not interested Alice!" I call from the end of the hallway. I don't want her to think that I was counting on her coming.

"Open up!" she yells.

I wait a few moments until she bangs the door again and then I open it a crack. She pushes it instantly and marches into the hallway.

She whirls to face me, her eyes blazing with anger and her brow creased with confusion. "I thought we could get over this," she says.

Even though I engineered this, weeks of pent-up hurt and humiliation bubble to the surface, and I explode. "Who the hell do you think you are? You haven't spoken to me for nearly two months and now you turn up on _my_ doorstep because_ you_ want some answers?"

She blanches at the force of my rage. "Look, I know I was a shitty friend, but I had no choice Bella, I had to–"

I rake my fingers through my hair, feeling like I could tear every strand out of my own head. "Alice, I really don't care anymore. Just leave!"

She stares into my eyes, but I break the contact when hers narrow. "Why did you do it?"

I get the feeling she is referring to me corroborating Jessica's story, but I deliberately take it the wrong way. My stomach heaves, but I quell it as best as I can.

"Do what, Alice? Fuck your brother?" I say with as much disdain as I can fake. "Because I wanted to, because I could."

Her frown deepens and hurt flashes in her eyes. "He says he loves you," she says quietly.

The thought that he's said such a thing to her when his abandonment proves it to be a lie enrages me. My ire fuels what I have to do, making it far easier to say the words than I thought it would be.

"Loves me?" I scoff. "You're brother is a selfish prick who fucked his sister's best friend in his car a couple of times. He's trying to justify it now by giving you his bullshit sob story. Let me tell you how it was." My breathing has become ragged as I yell at her venomously. "It's true what Jessica said. I wanted him to be my first, so I set out to get him. It was easy; he's so fucking weak and selfish and doesn't care about anybody but himself. He couldn't keep it in his pants. That's it! That's all it was. He's a pathetic piece of shit who got caught with his pants down and then hid behind his family hoping to get away with it."

Her eyes grow wide with shock. "That's not true!" she protests. "I know he did wrong, but he's just trying to do the right thing, Irina needs him–"

"Edward wouldn't know the right thing if it bit him in the ass!" I scream, heading for the door and flinging it open. "Now get out of my house and don't come back here again!"

She walks slowly towards me, but I keep my eyes trained on the yard outside. My anger is quickly disintegrating as the full force of what I've said starts to dawn on me. She stops by my side, and it takes all the strength I have not to look at her.

"I know we handled it badly, Bella," she says, sighing. "But I know you and I know my brother, so I can tell which one of you is lying. Maybe when you've calmed down we can talk."

Sadness washes over me. I want to take it all back and tell her everything, but then I remember that everything includes the fact that I'm pregnant with Edward's baby. That overrides everything and so I find one final shred of the anger I held before.

"Get out!"

She doesn't argue further. She hurries out, and I slam the door behind her, leaning against it as emotion overcomes me. When I hear her car pull away, I slide to the floor sobbing and wishing that I didn't still love Edward.

And that's where a bewildered Charlie finds me.

He gets down on his knees and cups my cheek in his hand, brushing my tears away with his thumb. He murmurs something to me, his voice so gentle I can't hear it over my cries.

I blink up at him. "I'm ready to call Mom," I force out between shuddering breaths.

Sadness sweeps over his face, and he nods with understanding. But he doesn't understand at all.

He helps me up and pulls me into his arms. A fresh wave of misery engulfs me. "I'm pregnant," I whisper, unable to hold it inside any longer.

I feel him stiffen. "Oh, Bella," he laments.

"I'm so sorry, Dad."

The onslaught doesn't come. I expect him to fly into a rage but instead he holds me while my pain erupts. His hands rub warming circles into my back and I cling to him, needing the comfort I've wanted from him so many times. His jaw rests on my head, and I feel it tremble with every sob that wracks my body.

When the worst of it passes, he helps me to my feet and leads me into the living room. He sits beside me for a few moments, staring at me with sympathetic but bewildered eyes. I drag in a long shuddering breath, and he stands abruptly and paces for a while, alternating between running his hands across the back of his neck and smoothing his moustache with his thumb and forefinger.

He turns to me. "Does he know?"

I shake my head.

"If I knew where he was..." he begins, but doesn't finish the sentence.

"I'm not telling him."

His head whips around. "What?"

"I'm going to go live with Mom. He doesn't need to know. I don't want him involved in this."

He starts to pace again. "He doesn't deserve to know, that's for sure." He stops and rubs his hand down his face. "He's taken everything from you," he seethes, his anger coming to the fore now. "If I ever see him again, I'll kill that fucker!"

"Dad!"

He glares at me with unseeing eyes. "You're eighteen years old. He's ruined your life. How can you go to college now? What about your dreams? He's ran off to God–knows–where and nothing has changed for him." He stops mid-rant and fixes me with a stern stare. "You don't have to go through with this. You can still put it behind you."

My heart aches. "I can't do that."

He closes his eyes, and I've never seen such a defeated look on his face. "I hate this." He jams one hand into his hair while the other clenches into a fist. "How could you be so stupid?" he berates me. "He's a goddamned doctor, didn't he–" His eyes shut tightly, like he can't bear the images behind his lids.

I watch the emotions flit across his face: Anger, disappointment, confusion, helplessness and sadness. His eyes open, revealing yet another emotion: Regret. "I thought you and Alice were good friends. You seemed happy." His eyes dart from side to side like he's looking for answers inside himself. "I know I left you on your own too much, I just..." He looks at me helplessly. "I didn't know how to make you happy, and I guess it was easier to see you enjoy yourself with Alice."

His eyes darken as he swallows hard. He tenses visibly, clenching his fists. "I thought the Cullens were a good family."

My whole body is trembling with emotion. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to let you down."

His head snaps up. "I let you down," he says vehemently. "But I'm going to help you through this, Bella. Anyway I can!"

He spends the next few days walking around under a cloud, struggling to come to terms with what's happening. Sometimes I catch him glaring at me and other times he looks unbearably disappointed. I can't say I blame him, but it's still hard to take.

We haven't talked about it in any great detail. I've done that with Mom instead. She got just as mad as Charlie when I initially told her, but when I spoke to her last night she cried. My tears have all but dried up. I feel dead inside. I still cry myself to sleep every night, and my dreams of Edward break my heart anew every morning.

Renee arrives one Friday to take me to Phoenix, because apparently Charlie doesn't think I'm capable of making the trip alone. He might be right. I listen to their muffled tones drifting up from the kitchen, and it doesn't surprise me when they get louder and harsher and develop into a full-blown argument. The argument doesn't last long, and I wait until they are silent before I pick up my rucksack and head downstairs.

My hand automatically sweeps over my belly when I eye the large suitcase sitting at the bottom of the stairs. It seems pointless taking all of these clothes with me, but I didn't have the heart to stop Charlie filling the case with everything he could get his hands on. He thought he was helping. The weather in Phoenix will be too hot for heavy clothes, and soon my belly will be too big for the rest of my wardrobe.

Renee turns as soon as I step into the room. She tries not to react, but her shock is evident in the brief moment her eyes widen and her jaw slackens. She recovers quickly though, and pulls me into her arms. "You look so pale," she whispers into my hair. "Have you been eating right?"

Charlie makes a huffing noise behind her, and I manage a small smile and an eye-roll when I catch his eye. His smile as small and tight, but at least he tried.

"We should get going," Renee says, stroking my hair back from my face and looking into my eyes.

"You only just got here," I protest.

She glances at Charlie before returning her gaze to me. "I thought it would be easier if I booked a flight straight back."

Charlie stands and holds his hand out. "I'll put your bags in the car."

I slide the rucksack off my shoulder and hand it to him. I take a last look around the kitchen before following my parents outside. I'm surprised when I see Charlie putting my bags into a black sedan.

"I rented a car," Renee explains, catching my expression. "I figured it would be easier than asking Charlie to drive us."

Renee squeezes my arm. "I'll wait in the car."

With shoulders slumped and a frown so deep his moustache is almost concealing his lips, Charlie slopes towards me. He keeps his eyes on the ground for a beat before he finally looks up. The grief in his eyes robs me of breath. I rush down the steps and slam into his chest. Sobs rack my body as long held bitterness finally leaves me.

"I'm sorry," I chant over and over into his chest.

He holds me tight, and I'm transformed into that little girl again who doesn't want to leave her daddy.

"You best not keep your mom waiting," he says gruffly, prising me off him. He kisses my forehead while his thumbs brush away my tears.

"I don't want to go," I whisper, barely able to form the words.

"I don't want you to go either," he croaks. "But you need your mother."

He won't let me argue, and deep down I know I need to leave.

Feeling him press something into my hand, I look down and frown at the roll of bills in my hand. I look up at him, ready to refuse.

"Shhhh. It's not much, it's just a little bit to help you out," he says, closing my fingers around it. "I'll send you some more next month."

"You don't have to do that," I protest, sniffing loudly.

"I want to," he insists. "You're going to need a lot of... new stuff." He hesitates a little. "For you and the... uh... the little one. I'll help you out as much as I can."

I hug him again. "You'll come visit?"

He rubs his hand along the back of his neck and shifts from foot to foot. Sighing loudly, he stares behind me out into the forest. My heart lifts a little when he nods. "I'll come visit," he agrees.

I hug him again and have to force myself to let go when Renee starts the engine.

"Call me when you get there," he says, sounding choked up.

Once again tears are streaming down my face as I get into the car. I press my hand to the window as Renee backs out of the driveway, and Charlie raises his slowly as we pull away. My eyes stay focussed on him until my tears wash his image away.

Something breaks inside me as we leave Forks behind. The finality of it guts me. The pain of all my broken dreams slices through me with the sharpness of a cold, stark reality that I can't accept. I thought I'd be leaving with Edward, heading into a bright new future. But instead I'm skulking out of town like the dirty secret I am.

Time passes unnoticed. Even though the days have been interminably long and the nights excruciatingly so, time has passed. I can barely remember the month spent in Phoenix before we moved out here to Florida. I have vague recollections of packing boxes and following Renee's frantic orders, but my head was too filled with my own painful memories for me to be of any use.

I spend most of my days looking out at the sea. Mostly from my room, but occasionally, when the sun sets and the sun worshipers and families leave, I'll wander out onto the sand and listen to the calming rhythm of water washing sand.

The beach is usually quiet at this time, save for a few dog walkers. A few times I've been startled out of my miserable stupor by a wet muzzle pressing against my cheek.

I look across the water at the dying sun. My eyes drift upward, taking in nature's beautiful canvas as purple clouds streak across a vivid coral haze. I wonder what the sky looks like where Edward is. It's hard to imagine that we live beneath the same one. He might as well be on a different planet. I know it feels like I am.

"Hey."

Renee's soft voice drifts on the breeze. She settles down beside me and slides her arm across my shoulder. "You've been out here for hours."

I shrug.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"What?" I ask.

"The sunset."

I look again at the dark purple hews of the clouds drifting across the coral sky. It doesn't inspire any sort of appreciation in me. Nothing does anymore.

"I'm worried about you, baby," she murmurs, laying her head on my shoulder. "This isn't healthy."

When she starts to talk, I tune her out by focussing on the sound of the waves. I don't want to hear about how abnormal I am, or how I need to start thinking about the future. She's said it all before, and I care even less now than I did the first twenty times.

A flutter in my stomach distracts me momentarily.

"... so Phil and I were thinking maybe you should see someone..."

The next flutter is stronger. Like bubbles bursting in a staccato beat across my abdomen. My head dips, and I watch distractedly as my hand slides across the small bump that's gone largely unnoticed by me.

"What is it?"

Renee lifts her head off my shoulder, looking down at my hand.

"I don't know," I reply.

"Are you in pain?" she asks, concern etched on her face.

I feel it again. A tiny ripple beneath my hand and a more insistent shift deeper inside.

"I think the baby just moved," I gasp.

Like throwing open the drapes in a darkened room, my mind clears of the dark haze that has enveloped me for so long. I grab Renee's hand and place it beneath mine. I can barely breathe from the anticipation.

"I think I felt it," Renee cries, pressing her hand closer.

A surge of emotion boils up from my stomach into my throat, warming me from the inside out. Breathing life into my soul. A rare chink of light in my darkness.

Over time the flutters gets stronger – as do I. Tiny thumps become strong kicks, each one bringing another seed of hope. Maybe I can do this, maybe there is a future for the two of us.

With each day I find new resolve. I make calls to Charlie and for the first time in my life we really talk. At first it's difficult, but he follows my lead when I open up to him and I start to enjoy our conversations. I can't help but wish we'd found this level of understanding when I lived with him.

I never ask him about Edward, even though deep down I'm aching to know. But every time I almost crack, a little voice inside me tells me what I don't know can't hurt me. Charlie never offers any information up either. It's become an unwritten rule between us.

When I first registered for pre-natal care I attended all the appointments alone, but the day I came home with my first sonogram photo changed all that. Renee was devastated. She took the photo from me and tears filled her eyes when she looked at it.

The memory of the hurt in her eyes will never leave me. She looked up at me, lips trembling and told me I could either treat this baby like it was something to be ashamed of, or I could embrace the hand that fate has dealt me and make the most of it.

I chose the latter, and Renee was at my side through every appointment after that.

By the time I reach my eighth month, the spectre of child birth starts to hover over me and I'm back to staring at the sea. Most days there are thoughts of Edward – I worry that will never change – but for now the fear of childbirth is enough to divert my thoughts.

A soft knock on my door snaps me out of my reverie. "Come in," I call, rising stiffly to my feet.

"You ready?" Renee asks. "For our shopping trip," she clarifies when I stare at her in confusion.

I stifle my groan. "I don't remember agreeing," I point out.

She steps fully into the room with my chucks dangling from her fingers. "Sit down," she orders. "I'll tie the laces for you."

I sag onto the bed, supporting my bulky body on my elbows while Renee puts my shoes on for me.

Fatigue sets in pretty quickly as she drags me around the mall, buying some things I'll need for the hospital. She pulls me towards the baby carriages to show me the one she's bought. While she tells me it'll be delivered after the birth, I try not to look at the smiling couples meandering through the aisles. I try not to look at their happy faces as they test out some of the products. There's a happy atmosphere in the store that is stifling, and unable to endure the loneliness it incites in me, I rush for the door.

"I feel faint," I lie when Renee finds me leaning over the railings outside.

She shoots me a knowing glance, but plays along. "Okay, let's get you home."

The closer to home we get the more excited she seems. I can't fathom why, but I lack the energy to try to figure her out.

Phil rushes outside when we arrive, grabbing all the bags while he nods at Renee. I follow them into the house feeling like I'm missing a joke or something.

"We have a surprise for you," Renee says, grabbing my arm and squeezing my hand gently.

She leads me upstairs while I look over my shoulder at Phil who is following close behind. My breathing is deeper as I reach the top but Renee pulls me on down the hallway to my bedroom. She swings open the door and leads me inside.

"Well?" she asks, beaming proudly.

Her eyes are trained on the corner left of the doorway. I turn and follow her gaze to see a crib has been set up in the corner, with a changing table and other baby paraphernalia set beside it. A teddy bear frieze has been pasted to that portion of the wall, and a colourful mobile hangs over the crib.

Misery claws its way up from my gut into my throat, dragging guilt with it. I force myself to smile and thank them and somehow manage to keep my composure until they finally leave me to rest. As soon as the door closes behind them, my fist flies to my mouth and I bite down on the back of my hand to stifle the sobs.

I stare at the tiny corner of my room that is all that I can offer my baby. Feeling ungrateful, I try to fight the despondency the sight of it fills me with.

But I'm not strong enough to fight off the images of Edward and Irina that come unbidden to mind. I lie on my side on the bed with my back to the crib while visions of Edward and Irina happily decorating a full nursery for their baby torture me.

Tears soak my pillow as I imagine Edward beaming proudly at their handiwork as his hand moves protectively over Irina's swollen belly. Despite everything, I still yearn for him. Sometimes in my weakest days I want to find him and tell him that I'm having his baby too. I want him to tell me that he made a terrible mistake and he does love me after all. But in this case, his inaction spoke louder than words.

He doesn't want me. There's no reason to think a baby would change that.

A strong kick brings me to my senses. My sobs shudder to a halt, and I wrap my arms around my belly whispering softly.

"It's okay, baby," I croon. "We'll be okay. I'll love you so much. I'll never leave you."

Another sharp jab brings a small smile to my face. The bond I already feel with my baby is as tangible as the movement beneath my fingers. The thought of loving and being loved by this new life sustains me. I know this love is mine to have and mine to give.

And I won't let anyone take it away from me.

"It's just you and me," I whisper.

* * *

Renee hovers. She plumps the pillows on my bed, adjusts the curtains just a little bit wider, winds up Jacob's mobile – and regards me intently.

Finally I wrench my eyes from my son and face her.

"We need to talk," she says gently.

"Mom, I just got home. I'm tired."

She takes my hand when she sits beside me on the edge of the bed. Jacob snuffles and I lurch forward. Her hand tightens.

"You cried for him."

I gaze lovingly at my boy. "I'll always cry for him."

Renee sighs. "Edward. You cried for Edward. All through the birth. We have to talk about this."

"Why?" I ask sharply, annoyed by her timing.

"Because I can't sit back and let you make this decision without discussing it."

"What decision?"

Her fingers curl around my jaw turning my face to hers, tilting it so I have no choice but to meet her gaze.

"I know you don't want to tell Edward, but that little boy's gonna need a father."

Rage erupts. "He doesn't need to be second best in anyone's eyes," I spit.

She grips my upper arms. "You can't replace one kind of love with another."

I frown at her. "What are you talking about."

A cynical smile plays on her lips as she shakes her head. "His name. I looked it up in that book of baby names you spent so much time reading."

My eyes snap to hers.

"The supplanter," she says with purpose. "At first I didn't see the connection, because it's very tenuous," she says, making eye contact. "But it's there. I may not be well educated, but I can find my way around a dictionary."

I looked for names with meaning, there were so many but I settled on Jacob because I liked both the name and the very vague nature of what it meant to me. But Renee is on to me.

"To remove, succeed or replace," she chants as if she's reading straight from the dictionary right now. "Is that what he means to you? Do you think he's removing the love you had for his father... replacing it... _succeeding_ it?"

Maybe the origins were there. I chose the name because deep down I know he has replaced something inside me that has been missing since Edward left.

I gaze into his crib, my fingers trace the outline of his beautiful face softly. It's so much more than that now. I never knew a love like this could exist. He's not taking anyone's place; he doesn't need to usurp anything from my soul. From the moment I heard him wail through his first breath, my life clicked into place.

One look at him and I'm filled with a love that is so powerful I know I would withstand any amount of pain just to keep it from touching him. I would fight with my dying breath to protect him, and I will love him so fiercely he will never doubt it.

She doesn't wait for a response. She continues on. "I still think you should tell him, baby. It's not right,"

The slow breath I let out is deliberate, a sigh suppressed. "Not today," I say.

"I won't let it go," she warns.

I raise my eyes to hers. "Give me a couple of weeks?" I plead. "I promise we'll talk about it."

She brushes her lips across my cheek before slipping out the door.

I reach into the crib and scoop Jacob into my arms, pressing my nose to his downy head. The scent of him tugs at my heart, my womb, my soul.

"I love you," I murmur, clenching my eyes as I savour his scent. "I'll love you so much you won't need anything else.

He turns his head to my breast, and we feed each other in different ways.0

* * *

**Thank you to Mel for asking me to write this. **

**Thank you for reading.**

**Kat**


End file.
